Paris Burning
by Lady Eden Death
Summary: Sensui/Itsuki. Let them burn together, in both lust and sin. Some adult content.


Well, I got rather tired of failing at farkle on facebook, and so I started to write this. I blame you, Sir Psycho Sexy. Therefore, it is sort of dedicated to you. You said it sounded like them after all.

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Paris Burning

According to Alighieri, the pair of them would be forever trapped within the Inferno regardless of any future sins that may be committed; this reality tarnished, inevitably tore away and discarded, what reluctance had been present. Without hope of salvation, they could become enveloped in the deepest pits of hell-together. Let them burn together, roasted already via their carnal desire, whose destructive power cruelly ghosted, wafted-permeated the air every instant longer they delayed. Its suffocating force grabbed hold of their fragile necks; choking and gagging, they would seek one another for air, which would greedily be sucked from the opposite's lungs. Domination assumed role of key-and, alas, the pair would battle for top.

Flames from the conflagration lapped at their heels, scalding and marring inches of exposed flesh. Moths to the flame, they were burned and ultimately destroyed as they sullied one another time and time again. Reduced to ashes, which in turn dirtied all exposed to their touch.

To best understand their slow corruption of the world, it is undeniably intelligent to return to that very first time, occurrence in which the younger participant was so tempted by the serpent to bite into that delectable, lush apple. Where Sensui was but a boy only then developing into a man; at the ripe age of fifteen, his sexuality happened to be so easily swayed by the soothing voice belonging to Itsuki. The demon opened his arms wide, invitingly, for the young spirit detective. And Sensui, listening to the soft coos and assurances that these were not sins he would be damned for, allowed himself to be embraced.

Itsuki tugged at the shirt's hem, forked tongue suggesting Sensui remove his pants on his own-it would be better if the spirit detective started to participate. As such, in short matter of time, the trembling boy, nervous and virginal, knelt over the smiling Itsuki, who continued to promise this act meant nothing in terms of damnation-"How can love be a sin, Shinobu-san?"

Obediently, the fifteen-year old pressed forward, placed the tip of his cock at Itsuki's entrance, and then froze yet again. He shook his head. "It's wrong." Repetitive; that sense of justice, however, only proved to draw Itsuki deeper into his lust, obsession for the boy; he wanted to corrupt him all the more, wanted to watch that fall from grace. How he loved him so.

"Why, Shinobu-san, do you think I'm evil?"

The boy, blinking, stared at the demon, spread below him and naked, vulnerable, trusting. His own heart skipped a beat; if he was damned for loving, then spirit world was not a place he trusted in. He thrust, sheathed himself inside the tight warmth that was Itsuki. The demon moaned, eyes rolling in pleasure and hands pulling Sensui closer to him. "That's it, Sensui-san, that's it."

In the future, Itsuki found that his second favorite was Naru, the only of Sensui's personalities who willingly allowed the demon dominant role. He was so gentle with her as she recited poetry in his ear. Fragile and pure, whilst his darling Sensui continued on his downward spiral. There was no winning with Kazuya, who bullied and humiliated Itsuki-only to both their own sadistic pleasures. The rough manner in which he was treated was most often balanced by Sensui's sincere apologies while the former spirit detective fucked him.

"Sensui-san." They all called his name, treated him like he was a god. And Itsuki watched in great humor as one by one they fell, were reduced to nothing other than mere puppets the more they lingered in the pair's presence.

Makihara, whom Sensui so nicely used as a sacrifice, a pawn for Ani Toguro. Amanuma, whom Kazuya would have loved to kill and Sensui carefully made certain would be revived; Itsuki treated the child as his own, if only for the smiles rewarded him by his lover. Mitarai, the traitor Minoru had so cunningly spotted. Kamiya, who would have to redesign his own face, his own identity to escape the outcome of their plot. And Hagiri, oh Hagiri, who so reminded Itsuki of the younger Sensui.

Hagiri had been best whilst under Sensui, under Itsuki himself. The boy had been so easily persuaded yet defiant in the same breath. He, perhaps, had been burned worse by their cinders.

Itsuki laughed to himself, arms still around Sensui as they remained together, forever, in the realm where spirit world could not touch them-could not damn them to the fate Alighieri decided belonged to them. And his lips closed around those of the former spirit detective's, allowing Sensui to steal the air from his lungs.

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And there you have it. My first Sensui/Itsuki fic. My escape from failing at Farkle. Something that actually wasn't a rape fic. I sure feel a bit better now. And I feel sort of attached to this piece, in a good way.

Song: Paris is Burning by St. Vincent.


End file.
